Broccoli rabe (rapini or spring broccoli) and lemon juice add a subtle spring brightness to this quiche. Recipe below.
ONE NIGHT IN LYON, MARION AND HER SISTER HAD DINNER in a little neighborhood restaurant. When they were seated, the waiter asked them one question: “Rouge ou blanc?” Red or white, meaning the wine. Once they chose their wine, there were no more choices—the meal they were served was all determined by the wine. I sometimes think Blue Kitchen is like that.
Regular readers show up here week after week (you know who you are and thank you), and we say here’s what we made this week. You don’t even get to choose rouge ou blanc. This week, we’re serving quiche again, even though we did so recently. Partly for practical reasons—the refrigerator case rolled pie dough we used last time was a two-pack—but mainly because we were reminded how straightforwardly simple quiche is to make and, more important, just how much we like it. To those of you thinking “what, quiche again?”, we apologize, but only sort of.
Broccoli rabe, or rapini, is at the heart of this dish. It’s also sometimes called spring broccoli because one of its two seasonal harvests is in spring; that’s what made us think of using it. Associated with Mediterranean cuisine, broccoli rabe is popular in southern Italian and Italian-American kitchens.
The first time cooking with broccoli rabe can be a little intimidating. Its spiky leaves, small broccoli-looking buds and thick, tough stems take some navigating. We cut off much of the stem and chop the leaves, buds and a portion of the stem crosswise. When serving it as a side dish, cut it into 1-inch pieces. For the quiche, we cut it a little smaller.
Its inherent bitterness is tamed with a two-step cooking process: first, it’s blanched in boiling water; next, it’s quickly sautéed, usually with garlic and red pepper flakes. It’s often served with lemon wedges.
For this quiche, we took a similar approach, adding in some chicken to make it a more robust meal and adding lemon juice to the sautéed mix before baking it all with eggs and cream and cheese. The end result was rich, bright and tangy, with a slight taste of spring.
Broccoli Rabe and Chicken Quiche
Ingredients
- 1 store-bought pie crust, a deep 9-inch one, if frozen (see Kitchen Notes for other options, including a recipe for making your own)
- 2 cups trimmed and chopped broccoli rabe
- 1-1/2 cups chicken cut into bite-sized pieces (you can use boneless, skinless breasts or thighs, or store-bought rotisserie chicken)
- 2 large cloves garlic, minced
- olive oil
- salt
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 3 eggs
- 1/2 cup half & half
- 1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
- 1-1/2 cups coarsely grated Gruyère
- 1/4 cup coarsely grated Parmesan
Instructions
- Par-bake the crust. Preheat the oven to 375ºF. While the oven is heating, put the pie crust in its tin on the counter and let it thaw slightly, so you can prick it all over with a fork. Line the pie shell with foil or parchment paper, then weight it with dried beans or pie weights. Bake the crust until slightly golden on the edges, about 15 to 20 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack and remove weights, simply picking the foil or parchment at the corners.
- Meanwhile, make the filling. Bring a pot of water to boil. Rinse the broccoli rabe and working one stem at a time, cut off much of the thick stem and chop the leaves, buds and a portion of the stem crosswise. You want a generous two cups of tightly packed pieces—it will cook down. Blanch the chopped broccoli rabe in the boiling water for 2 minutes, then drain in a colander and rinse under cold running water. Drain on a paper towel-lined plate, gently squeezing out excess water.
- Heat a large, deep sauté pan over medium flame. Add enough oil to coat the bottom, about 2 tablespoons. If you’re working with uncooked chicken, add it to the pan, season lightly with salt and cook, stirring frequently, until there’s no pink on the outside; you don’t need to brown it or even cook it completely through. If you’re using cooked rotisserie chicken, add it to the pan, but don’t salt it. Toss to coat with oil. Add the broccoli rabe and garlic, and cook, stirring frequently to combine everything, for about 2 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice.
- Using a slotted spoon, transfer the mixture to a paper towel-lined plate and let it cool slightly, then top with another paper towel and gently press down to squeeze moisture from it.
- Beat eggs in a bowl, then add half & half and beat to combine.
- Assemble and bake the quiche. Spread the Dijon mustard in the bottom of the crust (this is optional, but the mustard sharpens the cheese flavors without imparting its own taste). Put broccoli rabe/chicken mixture into the crust and gently spread with a fork to evenly distribute it. Sprinkle cheese evenly over the filling. Pour the egg mixture over the top, using your fork to gently help it settle in around the filling.
- Transfer to the middle rack of the oven and bake the quiche until it has puffed up and is set and beautifully browned, about 25 to 35 minutes. You can test with a sharp knife to make sure the middle is set.
- Cool on a rack at least 10 minutes, then serve. You can also serve it room temperature, but I think warm is best. See Kitchen Notes about reheating leftovers.
Kitchen Notes
- Remove quiche from fridge and let it come to room temperature.
- If you’re just reheating a slice or two, cut those and transfer to a sheet of foil that will fit in the toaster oven on its wire rack. You might also put strips of foil over the crust edges to keep it from browning too much.
- Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Transfer quiche slices, still on the foil, into the oven. Heat until thoroughly warmed through, 10 to 20 minutes—you can remove the foil from the crust for the last few minutes to let it brown a little.
- If you're reheating an entire quiche, definitely use your oven; you can leave it in the pie plate to do it.
- Do NOT microwave your quiche. The crust will turn soggy.
This really is timely. We are quiche-ing it up bigtime around here this spring. Just made a fantastic one with fresh cèpes and spring onions and, I kid you not, chopped/shaved chestnuts (well, we had a whole jar left over from our Thanksgiving bonanza that we’ve been staring at in the pantry for 4 months and just HAD to find some use for), plus some finely chopped ail des ours (only available for about 2 weeks in March every year, but ever so special). It came together nicely, despite the possibly frightening combination of flavors — deeeLISH! No blanc or rouge for us with quiche: Our favorite rosé Pays d’Hérault, at 2,25 euros a bottle (!!!) seems to work fine.
Now to hit the markets to see if we can find some broccoli rabe, which isn’t a terribly popular veg around here, but findable. Cheers!
Actually, when I saw this subject of this week’s post, my first thought was: “Goodie! Quiche again!” I really MUST get back into the habit of making quiche much more often than I do. Which is basically never, these days. Alas. Anyway, this looks excellent, terrific springtime dish. Thanks.
All the years of making a dish and you did it to me again ~ you add a simple ingredient that had never occurred to me. Chicken.
I’ve been the quiche baker (maker?) In my family for decades. Not once have I thought of adding chicken.
I’m going to change up our Easter this year.
My secret ingredient is cottage cheese along with the regular cheeses.
I love your story of the rouge or blanc. As I’ve said before, your stories bring as much joy as the recipes. Thanks, Terry!
nothing better than a beautiful quiche!
Mellen, the brief armchair visits you give us to your lovely corner of France are always a delight! And Marion particularly liked the idea of the chestnuts in your quiche. Myself, I was Googling the rosé you mentioned!
I’m glad that was your reaction to more quiche, John! Until recently, we hadn’t made it in so long that I’d forgotten how simple and satisfying it can be. I’m now threatening to make one every few weeks or so. We’ll see how that goes.
Dani, I think you’ll enjoy it. We used leftover rotisserie chicken because we had it on hand, but I now want to use uncooked chicken thighs, just because they stay so juicy and tender when you cook them. And I’m glad you like our stories—they’re a big reason we do Blue Kitchen.
Thanks for stopping by, Sherry!